WWN presents the true story of Bat Boy in a series excerpted from the hit book, Going Mutant: The Bat Boy Exposed!

WWN presents the true story of Bat Boy in a series excerpted from the hit book, Going Mutant: The Bat Boy Exposed!

“In a world gone batty… there was one Bat who could save the world.”

In an exclusive agreement with Barry Leed, PhD (MBS) and Neil McGinness ( the authors of Going Mutant: The Bat Boy Exposed), WWN will excerpt parts of the popular Bat Boy book for our readers. It tells the complete story of Bat Boy – and he’s not happy with us, becaue the book contains classified, personal, sensitive files concerning Bat Boy that have never been made public.

At 3:21 p.m. on a cool December day north of mile marker 63 on I-95 just south of Richmond, Virginia, Amanda Lethbridge checked her rearview mirror and noticed an unusual figure clinging to the grille of the Peterbilt truck in her rear. Lethbridge, a thirty-seven-year-old resident of Richmond, switched to the right lane to let the truck pass. She caught a glimpse as the truck passed by at seventy-five miles per hour. The creature had his head bent back and was snapping at insects in midair.

A week later, on a clear, balmy night in Sarasota, Florida, Chris Caddick’s cocker spaniel, Meat Loaf, became agitated by something in his backyard. Caddick stepped outside to investigate. Meat Loaf led his owner to a banyan tree where Caddick saw an animal crouching
on a lower branch. Caddick grabbed a broom and attempted to prod the animal from the tree. In a second, Caddick was mauled. His two hands were bitten clear to the bone. Hours later, from his hospital bed, Caddick told the investigating officer that the animal’s teeth were like “tiny daggers.” Meat Loaf was never found.

Later that month, outside Ely, Nevada, a young woman named Lucia Rickards left her house around dusk to look for her cat, Cookie. Rickards spotted what appeared to be a small boy standing behind her car parked in the driveway. The boy did not see her. Rickards watched
in horror as the boy lifted up her Honda Accord with one arm, grabbed Cookie from underneath the Accord, and ate her.

Then, without warning, in Seattle, Washington, Lionel Boldy came within inches of losing his life. Boldy’s chilling encounter was recorded by the Seattle Police Department in an official witness statement: “I was sitting on my patio eating a pizza and drinking a beer when I heard scratching in the bushes. What I saw froze my blood. My first thought was, ‘My God! It’s Dracula.’ I could actually smell his breath. The creature looked like he would be extremely dangerous if he felt threatened. There was no way I was going to threaten it, whatever it was. He
stood there staring at the piece of pizza I was holding.

His eyes were as round as saucers. I figured he might be hungry, so I threw a slice to him. He grabbed it right out of the air and
disappeared behind the bushes. I discovered the next morning he’d spit out the anchovies.”

The sightings were growing frequent. Too frequent. As the nation grew worried over its fate, the climate changed. Climate warming dropped out of sight. Climate fear took over. The president scrambled every available agency, including FEMUR (Federal Emergency Mutant Undercover Recovery), which hadn’t been scrambled since the Teapot Dome scandal of 1922. FEMUR failed to allay the growing fear. The situation tormented
reds and blues alike. Glenn Beck cried in prime time. Then, a night later, so did Anderson Cooper. Our country didn’t need this. Not now. I was sitting on my patio eating a pizza and drinking a beer when I heard scratching in the bushes. What I saw froze my blood…

Not with escalation in Afghanistan, economic instability, child vaccination uncertainty, and Regis Philbin still on television. Most media outlets promptly placed the blame on a rabid albino bunny cat gone wild. CNN located a primate biologist named Devon Pickstock, who had surveyed the attack scenes for DNA and bite radius samples. Pickstock went on-air and quickly ruled out an ABC, or albino bunny cat, and confidently identified the culprit as a shaved saber-toothed ostrich. The saber-toothed ostrich, or STO as Pickstock referred to it, would be quickly
trapped and shot.

CNN declared the case closed and focused the bulk of their attention on the discovery of an alien mummy fetus that a Kentucky man had found in a discarded beer cooler. Gradually, people tried to go about their business.

Ever since the “Bigfoot in a Balloon” episode, I had learned not to trust CNN. No way was this an STO or an ABC. Maybe the work of an eagle-headed hare, or EHH, but I doubted it. I had good reason. I had seen this attack pattern before, and it didn’t fit with an EHH. For me, the culprit needed no introduction. As a young doctoral candidate in mutant bat studies, or MBS, I had first laid eyes on the ornery beast known as Bat Boy in Dr. Ron Dillon’s lab in 1992.

The nation would not want to believe that Bat Boy was behind the attacks. The government had declared him a hero for his service in the Middle East. He had returned home from keep out of sight. But around the time of these recent sightings, I had intercepted chatter on the wire indicating that Bat Boy’s shell was beginning to crack.

Signs of post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, had surfaced. These recent attacks were either a poorly veiled cry for help or an angry assault on the citizenry that made his postwar reentry into society so difficult. I hoped for the former. Either way, something needed to be done before it was too late. Innocent lives hung in the balance.

I took off to visit the scientist who had first captured Bat Boy, the high priest of mutant bat studies, the Wheeling Wunderkind, the Mammal Messiah, Dr. Ron Dillon.